


Stay the Night

by smiley_seulgi



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 00:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14726897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiley_seulgi/pseuds/smiley_seulgi
Summary: Wendy plots with Yeri and Joy to get Seulgi locked out of her own room, with no choice but to sleep in their leader's room for the night.





	Stay the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! 
> 
> I've recently decided to start up an Ao3 account, so you'll see me on here randomly uploading the stories / one shots I've already completed from AFF on here! All of the stories on here will be the same as my AFF account (@smiley-seulgi) :) 
> 
> Enjoy this little fluff I wrote a while back!

   

Irene kisses her goodnight in front of the rest of the girls, the remnants of her cherry blossom lipstick imprinting the fair skin of Seulgi’s cheek with a pastel mark as the other members look on in bubbling silence from the kitchen.

Before they’d been chatting quietly about how Yeri’s fellow classmates are taking the starlet’s debut, how Wendy remembers how hard her courses were when she was in school, their most recent performance of _Ice Cream Cake,_ everything they could possibly bring up _._

They didn’t so much as look over when Seulgi plopped down onto the living room’s couch with a tired sigh, they were so engrossed in talking.

But the moment Irene stepped into Seulgi’s vicinity, all went quiet. Irene is so close Seulgi can smell her heavenly scent of fresh shampoo and sweet perfume, and just as Irene pulls away, there’s a ghost of a smile sweeping across her face. 

“Night,” she murmurs into Seulgi’s scorching skin, words languidly landing in the sizzling air as her mouth brushes against another section of Seulgi’s enflamed skin.

The blush is raging across her face, an untamed wildfire in a forest, and Irene suppresses a giggle before she walks away. It’s like the older girl knows exactly how much she affects the way Seulgi thinks with the way her slender hips seem to accent the way she walks a little more than usual. 

Seulgi watches her saunter back into the depths of her room, fingers brushing over where Irene’s kissed, trying to memorize the way Irene’s mouth felt against her.

In the background, she can hear Joy picking up her conversation with Yeri again, something about how she wants chicken for dinner tomorrow, but Wendy remains silent. Shooting a quick glance at them, she meets the Canadian’s burning gaze before she looks back to witness Irene’s door clicking shut.

After thirty seconds of holding her breath, Seulgi slumps back down into the cushions. 

Despite Wendy’s insistence and Irene’s constant showering her with affections, Seulgi can’t bring herself to believe that the two of them will be anything more than just friends.

Irene has always been the kind of warmhearted, overly attached girl since Seulgi knew her during their amateur years filled with dancing and singing lessons.

Irene gave everyone a piece of her, unconditionally. She handed out her love as if she were doing charity work, never with a second thought, and always giving a little too much of herself to anyone who desired it.

And that’s exactly how Seulgi fell for her, she joined the long line of people desperately elbowing at each other as they wait for their chance at winning Irene’s love.

And to Seulgi, it seemed as if she was lingering at the very end of row. 

There had been plenty of shared experiences between the two of them that made Seulgi wonder, hours after they happened, if maybe the intensity of Irene’s affections really were different when it came to her out of the other members. Because it seemed to her as if Irene never seemed to want anyone else’s blanket other than hers, no matter how many times Joy shoved her own fuzzy blanket in the girl’s face, Irene would only ever reach for Seulgi’s.

The moments they exchanged together had a tendency to keep Seulgi awake into the early hours of morning, with her overanalyzing and re-living what happened to see if there was any hidden meaning stowed away in the depths of Irene’s smile.

It started as little things that flowered into bigger things. Like how the leader always found ways to look at her from across the stage, even when thousands of fans watched them from the crowd below and cameras zoomed in on their every move. It was as if Irene didn’t care someone could watch a fancam of her staring at Seulgi from time to time as they danced near each other. Or like how Irene always tried to cling to Seulgi’s arm whenever they walked together, always tried to get closer to her.

Maybe Wendy was right, maybe Irene did have a thing for her. 

The moment the Canadian could break away from the pack of gossiping youngsters in the kitchen, she’s flopping down on the cushion next to her, the lights of the television flickering over her bleach-blond hair in the darkened living room. She breaks the chain of thought running through Seulgi’s head, and she’s left slouching there, trying to piece together memories of Irene’s eyes pouring into her from across the way. 

Together, Wendy and Seulgi sit in comfortable silence, flicking through various dramas and news channels and waiting Yeri and Joy out. After five or so minutes of them blabbering on about how they never would’ve expected Red Velvet to accomplish five trophies as they were still a relatively new group of SM’s, there’s the fading voices of the two youngest members, and then Wendy’s turning the volume down on the TV, eyes boring into the side of Seulgi’s head.

Seulgi knows what’s coming next without even having to meet Wendy’s glare, they’ve had this conversation many times before.

“Are we gonna talk about how much she loves you or are you gonna keep denying the way she looks at you when you’re not looking?” A solid seven seconds of silence answers the Canadian’s question, along with Seulgi’s heating skin and averting eyes.

No matter how many times they have this talk, it nearly almost ends the same way: with Seulgi feeling a little more confident about herself, and Wendy fuming in the depths of her room. “Okay,” Wendy chuckles. "Fine."

That should’ve been Seulgi’s first clue that this time, things would be different. The younger girl gets up and begins to stretch her limbs. “I didn’t want to have to this…but,” there’s the sound of clattering metal, and Seulgi looks up from the TV to find the key to the lock on her bedroom dangling within the younger girl’s fingers.

Her eyes widen, and for the first time she’s afraid of the intuitive flicker in Wendy’s eyes, “W-where did you get that?” A smirk slithers onto the other member’s usually playful face, “I paid off Joy to snag it this morning after breakfast with the promise of her favorite food for her and Yeri whenever we get a break from promoting this week.” 

With that being said, Wendy makes a beeline over to Seulgi’s room. She makes quick work of the lock, slamming the door shut, and then running into her own room, short legs became a blurred flurry of limbs escaping behind the door before Seulgi can even comprehend what was happening.

If she knew what kind of trouble she was getting in, Seulgi wouldn’t have laughed her head off. She would’ve gotten up and made a pass at that key, but instead, she was busy throwing her head back in laughter at the shorter girl’s childish actions. In the blink of an eye, Seulgi’s room is locked shut and the only set of keys is left in the hands of one of the most devious members of Red Velvet.

The door slams shut, shaking Seulgi from her laughing spree, and Wendy bellows between the cracks of the doorframe, “Go sleep in Irene’s room and see if you still think it’s impossible she’s in love with you!” 

Wendy’s voice might’ve caused an avalanche had they been up in the snow capped mountains, Seulgi swears that the sound echoed throughout the dorm. There was absolutely no way Irene _couldn’t_ have heard that through the thin walls of their little apartment complex, but the dorm remains a silent wasteland as Seulgi tries to piece together what she should do.

After a full minute of running through limited options, she quickly realizes there’s nothing she can do other than sleep with Irene, unless if she wanted to sprain her back against the couch for the night. And that’s how she ends up biting her lip, knuckles resting on Irene’s shut door, staring at the wood and contemplating wether or not to knock.

“FOR GODS SAKE,” Joy screams from the room next to Wendy’s, “OPEN HER FLIPPING DOOR!!” In blind panic, Seulgi yanks at the doorknob and tumbles into their leader’s little alcove. 

It’s nearly pitch black dark inside, and Seulgi can barely make out Irene’s slumbering figure from the moonlight streaming through the open shutters of the window. The room is dead quiet and she holds her breath as she peels back the covers of Irene’s bed and slips quietly in between the silk sheets, not wanting to ruin the serene moment she was witnessing.

There weren’t a lot of moments like this in her life, ones she wishes she could commit to memory, ones that didn’t involve her career and the lights of the stage. The ones that look like scenes from an art film, perfectly framed and perfectly peaceful.

She’s only just settled down in the foreign bed, facing opposite to Irene, she feels a warm body meld with her own. _So this is what spooning feels like._ Irene’s knees fit perfectly in the slots the back of Seulgi’s legs create, and she’s left gasping for air as a pair of hands graze the fabric of her shirt and hold her around her middle.

It’s as if they’re magnetically attracted to each other in the way Irene automatically reaches out for her in the darkness. 

Delicate fingers curve over the covered skin of Seulgi’s toned stomach, and suddenly, the younger girl can only think of the desperate need she has of her shirt to be thrown carelessly on the carpeted floor and for her bare flesh to be touched by Irene’s gentle hands.

She’s simmering slightly within the other girl’s embrace, and Irene sleepily makes sure Seulgi has underneath her fingertips. The leader nuzzles her way into the crook of Seulgi’s neck, and Seulgi can’t move an inch, she’s afraid she’ll wake up from a dream.

“Goodnight, Seulgi,” Irene murmurs, her voice riddled with sleep and dreams. Irene’s breathing evens while Seulgi’s quickens, and as Seulgi finally drifts off into dozing, safe within the arms of Irene, she swears she hears the leader whisper, “I love you.” 


End file.
